


Another Year

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Ginoza's Mom, Ron the Dog, two birthdays for ginoza's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobuchika is six and he is whole. Ginoza is thirty and he is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Year

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic written in companion with inconvenientplaces (link to their amazing fic above or below I forget how this formatting works)

He is six. His parents are happy. That is what he'll remember. His parents are happy. His father has just been promoted to something called Division One, and Nobuchika doesn't know what that means. 

But he knows it's good, because the night before they'd clinked glasses of wine and his mother had pressed a kiss to his father's lips and that kind of thing was gross to Nobuchika but in that moment, he understood that they were happy. 

Now they sit and hand him a gift wrapped in paper with cartoon puppies. His father says, “I'll be right back. Don't wait for me.” He pushes away from the table and leaves. 

For a moment, Nobuchika does consider waiting. But his mother smiles gently at him. “Open it, Nobuchika.” 

So he does, carefully, so as not to tear the paper. He likes the little cartoon dogs. They remind him of the large dogs in the park that he sees every so often, that run around and wag their tails and always stay by their owners' sides. 

He sets the wrapping paper aside. Now there's a box, simple and blue. Nobuchika lifts the lid, slowly, places it aside. 

It's a small collar for a dog. 

Nobuchika picks it up, holding it in his tiny hands and looks at his mother, questioning. She's smiling. He smiles back, tentatively, because he's been taught to always be thankful for the gifts that people give him. But he doesn't understand. 

Then a hand lands on his shoulder. 

“Turn around, Nobuchika,” his father says. 

Nobuchika turns around and finds himself face-to-face with a puppy. 

The puppy licks his nose. Nobuchika makes a noise of delight, jumps out of his chair. He's wanted a dog to call his own for a while now. The dogs at the park always seemed to love their owners, and their owners seemed to love the dogs. Nobuchika wanted a companion, too. “Is it ours?” 

“He is,” his father says. “Would you like to hold him?” 

Nobuchika's eyes are wide. He nods, vigorously. 

His father hands the puppy over. “His name is Ron, but you can rename him if you want. We got him from a shelter. He's yours. He's only a few weeks old.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

The puppy is tiny, too small for the collar that Nobuchika had just been given. He burrows his head into Nobuchika's chest, curling up. Already trusting him. 

Nobuchika smiles, wide, genuine this time. “Ron is good.” 

His father kneels down so that he's face-to-face with Nobuchika, looks him in the eye. “Now, Nobuchika, we're trusting you to take good care of Ron. I know you can do it.” 

Nobuchika nods, serious, feeling a warmth spread through him. It's a good feeling, being trusted with such a big responsibility. Knowing that his father has faith in him. 

After that they take Ron for his first walk in the park. A larger dog comes up and sniffs curiously at the tiny puppy, and Ron doesn't back away despite the dog's huge size. Nobuchika admires him for that. 

They spend the day together, his mother and father and him and Ron, and later there's cake and a party with school friends. But what Nobuchika remembers is the warm feeling of being loved as they walked through the park, and not wanting it to end. 

*

Dime nudges Ginoza's artificial hand, which hangs off the edge of the bed. His face is buried in his pillow, hidden by his real arm. 

It bothers him. He can't tell, without looking, if Dime is licking him or not. He can only feel the pressure of Dime bumping against his hand, but not what Dime is doing, what part of Dime is touching him. The artificial prosthetic is good technology, but it can't replicate the nuances of feeling with skin. 

Dime nudges him again. 

Ginoza withdraws his arm under the blankets. It's three in the morning and he can't sleep, and Dime clearly knows he's distressed. Dime knows him so well. In a few minutes, he'll probably jump onto the bed and curl up next to Ginoza, offering him warmth. 

It should be comforting, but it isn't. 

Ginoza tosses the blankets aside, stands up. He won't sleep tonight. 

He has a sudden, strong urge to visit Masaoka. 

Even after Masaoka left, he would always, at midnight on Ginoza's birthday, send him a message. Short, and for years Ginoza thought it wasn't enough to just say, “Happy Birthday, son. I hope you're doing well.” Or later, when they worked in the same place, just, “Happy Birthday, son.” 

But now he doesn't even have that. 

It's three hours past midnight and there are no messages. Not from Kougami, who would actually find Ginoza at midnight, usually still in the office, and insist that he have a birthday drink. Not from his father. They're all gone. 

Idly, Ginoza wonders how many birthdays he has left. He dresses, thinks he might take a walk. His quarters are suddenly too small, suffocating. Like a prison. It is a prison. He can't leave. 

He pulls on his coat. Rummages around in his room for cigarettes that he'd stolen off Kougami but never smoked. He needs something to do with his hands, because right now he wants to strangle something. Himself, probably. But instead he fumbles with a lighter, holds the cigarette and takes a deep breath of smoke. Enough to make him want to cough, gag. Choking him. 

He steps into the hallway and starts walking. 

He ends up on the ground floor, standing in the lobby in front of the doors. He steps up to the door, presses his hands against the glass. The streets outside are empty. Dark. 

“Enforcer Ginoza Nobuchika, you are unauthorized to leave the premises without the presence of an Inspector. Please step away from the door.” 

Ginoza sighs. He can see reflected in the glass a drone behind him. 

“Please step away from the door.” 

He could push the door open, walk outside, wait for the drone or an Inspector to shoot him. He could spend most of the next day unconscious, unable to think. He doesn't want to think. It's tempting. He bites his lip, tastes blood. 

Akane would have to deal with him after. She'd ask him if he was trying to escape. She might think that he was, and she might feel betrayed. Like he did. 

He can't do that to her. 

And even if she didn't think that, she would be scared for him. 

He can't do that either. He's scared her too much in the past few months. And it's one night. Just one bad night. 

He steps away from the door. 

“Ginoza-san?” 

Ginoza startles, turns around to find the drone gone and Akane staring at him. She's dressed in her work clothes still. Of course, he'd forgotten she had the overnight shift. 

He crushes the cigarette in his artificial hand. “What are you doing here?” 

“I received a notification that you were down here,” Akane says. “Do you want to go somewhere?” 

Yes, no, he doesn't know. He shakes his head. “You should go back to the office, Inspector.” 

Akane doesn't move. “You wouldn't be down here if you didn't have a reason.” 

“I just wanted to take a walk.” The lie comes easily. He even offers her a small smile. 

“You look tired,” Akane says. “Let me at least walk you back to your quarters. It's on the way.” 

Ginoza knows she won't leave without him. So he nods, falls into step beside her. They step into the elevator, the doors close behind them. He fiddles with the sleeve of his coat. 

“It's your birthday,” Akane says. 

Ginoza swallows. “Yes.” 

“A lot has changed in the past year,” Akane continues. “But a lot will continue to change. I wouldn't lose hope. Things can change for the better too, you know.” 

He doesn't know. But the way she says it, he wants to believe her. 

The doors open. He moves to step out, but Akane catches his sleeve just as he crosses the threshold. 

“Happy Birthday,” she says, and hugs him, tightly. Briefly. And then she lets go, stepping back, a bit unsure. 

Ginoza is stunned. He doesn't remember the last time someone hugged him like that. “Thank you,” he says, softly. 

Akane gives him a gentle smile. “I'll see you tomorrow.” 

The doors close, leaving Ginoza alone in the hallway. 

He walks back to his quarters in a daze, Dime worriedly bumping into him as he opens the door, following him to the bed, where he collapses. 

A lot has changed in the past year. He's lost so much. 

But not everything. 

He curls in on himself, and Dime jumps on the bed, and his cheeks are wet and his breaths hitch and he isn't sure what to feel other than that he feels like sobbing. 

But he doesn't. He's too tired. 

Eventually, he falls asleep.


End file.
